Kennedy Gordon

Take your kids out to Buckhorn this weekend and force them, force them, I say, into the Haunted Barn. It is without a doubt the scariest, spookiest, weirdest place I’ve ever experienced, and I’ve been to Tennessee. Organizers have converted a decrepit old barn into a winding labyrinth of pitch-black terror; we were greeted by this guy at the start (the only flash photo I shot) before being lost in the gloom.

At one point, my kids realized the person walking beside them wasn’t me — it was Michael Myers from the Halloween movies. A great moment.

You’ll find it at Buckhorn Berry Farm’s Pumpkin Fest, which has plenty of other fun Halloween things to do, and the best fries in the Kawarthas at Duffer’s chip truck. After the kids have calmed down from the horror barn, they could use some fries.

We have a chance to see a rare astronomical occurence this weekend: a newly discovered supernova. Using a telescope or even good binoculars, you will be able to spot it near the Big Dipper, which is the constellation I point out to the kids whenever I have to pretend that I know what I’m talking about.

• (True fact: You can just make up constellations, and kids don’t realize it until much later, if at all. “I don’t think I deserve this F, professor. There is totally a constellation called Kal-El!”)

This weekend, if the weather permits, you can look to the Big Dipper and spot a type A supernova discovered a couple of weeks ago. It’s still in its death throes, so its light will be visible tonight and through the Labour Day weekend if you know where to look.

So you have something you can do this weekend that doesn’t involve wires, screens and buttons. Give it a shot. Look up.

More on this here.

I took the kids to the local humane society today, because they like visiting the animals, and the animals like being visited. We can’t have a dog or cat because of my raging allergies, which cuts my animal-loving little girl to the quick on a regular basis. So we stop by the humane society, cuddle kittens, walk dogs and try to spread a little love to some animals needing it.

• A note: I love animals. I love dogs. I would love to have one. But I can’t, because my sneezes break windows.
  

Today we saw a building filled with cats and a sign saying there are too many, and the unwanted cat population in our city is at crisis levels. We saw a tiny puppy so terrified after being abused that she shook when I entered the room. And we saw a cool hound dog named Fontaine who looked me in the eye and said “Mister, I would be a pretty amazing dog for you.” He was the only one not barking like a maniac, and the only one who didn’t quake at the sight of me, and I wanted to just take him out of his cage and let him run.

I have this weird ninja superpower that means babies love me, but dogs get upset in my presence. I have never understood it. My neighbour has two boxers, and they go nuts if I even walk past a window while they’re in the yard. Yet strange random babies will crawl into my arms.

This dog was the rare combination of both those things, and came pretty close to coming home with us. But I knew that in the end, because of my allergies, he wouldn’t be able to stay. Or maybe he would, and I would have to sleep in the shed … he was a pretty awesome dog. It was difficult to walk away.

Spay and neuter your animals, people. Take care of them. Love them. And if you aren’t sure you want a dog or cat, don’t adopt one casually, thinking you’ll just get rid of it later if it doesn’t work out. I saw too many of those today.

Despite the good intentions and selfless mission of shelters and their workers, no animal should have to shiver with fear in a cage. When that happens, it’s a person’s fault. Don’t be that person.

This is good advice from the local health unit. I suggest you take it. Heat exposure can cause permanent brain damage, and even be fatal — it’s nothing to joke about. And the heat we’re experiencing now is on that level. Keep it cool, folks.

Staying cool:

• Drink lots of water and natural fruit juices even if you don’t feel very thirsty. Avoid alcoholic beverages, coffee and cola.
• Avoid going out in the blazing sun or heat when possible. If you must go outside, stay in the shade as much as possible and plan to go out early in the morning or evening when it is cooler.
• Go to air conditioned or cool places such as shopping malls, libraries, community centres or a friend’s place.
• If you don’t have air conditioning, keep shades or drapes drawn and blinds closed on the sunny side of your home, but keep windows slightly open.
• Keep lights off or turned down low.
• Wear loose fitting, light clothing and a wide brimmed hat.
• Take a cool bath or shower periodically or cool down with cool, wet towels.
• Avoid heavy meals and using your oven.
• Avoid intense or moderately intense physical activity.

Symptoms of heat exhaustion include:

• heavy sweating
• muscle cramps
• weakness
• headache
• fainting
• paleness, tiredness
• dizziness, nausea

We’ve lived here four years, and learned to love its odd charm. This is a Victory home, orphaned in a quasi-rural area away from its cousins, and loaded with efficient nooks and crannies, a nifty garage and the biggest back yard possible. It was never meant to be a permanent home, and as we prepare to move on (we get the keys to the new house tomorrow), I would like to look back at the good and the bad.

The bad:

1. That driveway. A snowblower was fun for the first winter. Not so much fun the second. The third was no big deal, as we had no snow. The fourth? the snowblower died (I sold it on Kijiji by claiming it was a battleship anchor). I cleared the runway, sorry, driveway once by hand, and aged a decade in the process.
2. That yard. “I don’t need a rider mower,” I said. “It’s a good workout.” And then I stuck to that sweaty motto for years, dealing with allergies and other health issues (known as Outashapitis) while steadfastly refusing to invest in a big riding mower.
3. Those neighbours. They have always looked at us in our little house as the poor relations, sitting there in their big fancy homes across the road. One of them threw a dead skunk in my yard, and later let his recyclables blow into our ditch in a windstorm and never picked it up. He had his rider mower up for sale and, just to spite him, I said no.
4. Well water. If the power goes out, as it does here all the time, we lose water. I can live without electricity (Lights, stove, TV, Internet, music), but not without water. Also, not without the Internet. I was making that part up.
5. The hill. Have you ever tried to walk or bike to our house? It’s not easy. Sarah tried it once and we had to do CPR. The kids won’t even try. It takes me six minutes to bike downtown, and an hour to get home. “But it’s a good workout,” you say. I would then refer to you to No. 2.

The good:

1. Privacy. Yeah, there are neighbours, but they’re across the road. Nobody lives beside us. This allows us to make kites out of 20×20 tarps and fly the kids around the yard whenever we want.
2. The ’70s rec room. Honestly, if you’ve never been in my rec room, you’ve missed out. Astroturf, wood panelling … when I’m in it, I just want to watch the Partridge Family while having a fondue.
3. Darkness. As a skywatcher, living in a place with no streetlights is a blessing. And as a burglar-basher, I have had plenty of opportunities to use the Big Dawg voice to scare away prowlers.
4. Well water. When it works, it’s the best-tasting drinking water you’ll ever sample. Going back onto city water is not something about which I am excited. Nor is proper grammar, but I do it anyway.
5. The wildlife. This is what I’ll miss the most. The curious fox, the circling hawk, those crows, the turkeys, the rabbits, the skunk, and even the raccoons who hang out in the garage … we are surrounded by nature here, and we’ll lose that. One time, the hawk was eating a dead skunk up in the back 40 and I thought it was a turkey doing some kind of breakdancing, so I walked up to it and was basically told to find my own skunk. Have you ever come face-to-face with a big hungry hawk? Not fun.

But life goes on. And so do we. I will miss this weird little house, but I’m also looking forward to something new. Also, once we’re in the new house, we can walk to Walmart. So there’s that.

Fantasy, swords, all that crap, in podcast form, with some Sarah Deeth action and probably some commercials. We aim to please here at Books You Should Read. We’re on iTunes, too, but if you don’t do the Internet thing, and if you ask nicely, I’ll mail you a cassette. And then I’ll ask how you knew to ask. Because I’m a cynic, as you probably already knew.

You can tell it’s Friday the 13th, because I have completely lost the ability to type.

Part of my work involves interviewing famous-type people, like Gordon Pinsent, Blue Rodeo, Jon Bon Jovi, William Shatner and Tortelvis from Dread Zeppelin. This week, I am going to be speaking with Brian Vollmer of Helix, a legendary Canadian metal band from the ’80s. I saw Helix live at the Sudbury Arena once, and they put on a great show, so this is an interview I know I will enjoy.

Of course, I gummed it up.

Brian and I have been emailing back and forth trying to set a time, and in the first of these emails, I referred to him as “Lips.” His reply was concise: “Lips is in Anvil. I am in Helix.”

I know this. I knew it the minute I clicked “send” on the email. See, I have a copy of the new Anvil CD, Juggernaut of Justice, sitting here on my desk, and in my head I was mixing up ’80s Canadian metal bands. This may be a result of having too tight a ponytail in the ’80s.

Luckily, Kick Axe was nowhere to be found. And we won’t even talk about Thor.

Helix plays at the Red Dog May 14. You should go, and you should bang your head, baby. I’ll have a full interview in the paper and online this week.